


The Name of the Game

by cfcureton



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), olicity - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 08:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11779053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cfcureton/pseuds/cfcureton
Summary: Felicity decides to stir things up at her coffee shop, but she may have met her match.





	The Name of the Game

Felicity Smoak pooched her bright red lips out, then pulled them back in with a critical eye trained on her coffee cup. She let out a beleaguered sigh.

"Wrong again," she muttered to Curtis as they turned away from the counter. He craned his neck over the top of her head to get a look as they navigated through the crowd to the door. 

"Fil-ic-itee," he read off the cup. "That's not so bad." She shot him a look over her shoulder. "Well, it's been a lot worse," he continued lamely.

"Felicia, Fillycity, Feelickity--one of my favorites," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes. "It's like they try to get it wrong on purpose! And as soon as I get one cashier trained, they quit and I have to start all over." Curtis lengthened his gait to keep up with her as she strode across the street in her sky high heels in defiance of the DO NOT WALK sign. "If the coffee wasn't so good I'd find someplace else," she yelled over the traffic.

The next morning Felicity stepped in gum a block from the coffee shop, which threw off her schedule. By the time she made it in the door Curtis was already paying for his drink. She caught his eye as he turned, and he shouldered his way back to her in line.

"Another new guy," he offered. She rolled her eyes, so he added, "He's kinda cute."

Felicity pushed up on her tiptoes to see over the man in front of her. "Well I don't know how you could tell with all that hair," she muttered sourly. Peeling someone else's gum off her brand new heels at 8:15 in the morning had put a dent in her usually sunny demeanor. 

As she fidgeted in line, Felicity let the bad mood build, allowing everything around her to become an annoyance. The line was too long, the patrons too loud, and the tag in the back of her dress was suddenly an itchy nightmare. She was practically fuming by the time her turn came.

On top of everything, the new cashier didn't even bother to make eye contact as she stepped to the counter. She cleared her throat loudly and he finally looked up. 

The curt demand for coffee she'd been preparing in line died on her lips as his ice blue eyes met hers. The look he gave her was intelligent and self-assured. Her own eyes flicked down for a moment in surprise, and while they were down there she noted broad shoulders and a well-defined chest under the company polo shirt that was (maybe?) a size smaller than necessary. That hair--well, the hair (and the visor) had to go--but the rest of him...

Felicity's order didn't come out nearly as haughty as she'd practiced in her head, and when he asked for her name she actually blanked for a minute. Good Lord, what WAS her name?!

His head tilted slightly as she stood there with her mouth hanging open, and it wasn't until the skin around his eyes crinkled in amusement that she finally pulled herself together.

"Barbara?" she blurted out, and he huffed a tiny laugh.

"Are you sure," he asked, grinnning slightly.

It was her turn to chuckle, even as the more analytical side of her brain tried to figure out why the hell she was suddenly giddy (not to mention where the name Barbara had come from).

"Witness protection has SO many rules," she managed to counter with a roll of her eyes, and he laughed again. The man in line behind her made it clear with his body language that it was time for her transaction to be over, so she shuffled to the side until she'd reunited with Curtis, who was sipping his drink with a curious expression.

"Well. That was...weird," he remarked, and she threw a half-hearted elbow into his gut.  
"Witness Protection? Seriously?"

Felicity stood next to him in silence, not looking at the end of the counter, but not NOT looking at it either. She pivoted toward Curtis once, eyes on the pastry case directly in front of her, and muttered, "Is he looking?" She felt like she was in Middle School again, except she never could've handled heels this tall back then. She was still replaying the whole conversation in her head while a barista near her repeatedly yelled out "Barbara!" 

Curtis finally nudged her. Hard. "Hey BARBARA. Your coffee's ready."

Felicity jumped with an "Oh!" and stepped forward to retrieve her drink, letting her eyes flick one last time to the cashier station. Ice blue eyes locked on to hers for a fraction of a second before she turned and followed Curtis out the door.

The following morning Felicity MIGHT have taken a moment longer than usual to consider her outfit. She beat Curtis into line by a full minute, so he was at least four people behind her when her turn came.

The cashier's eyes were fully on hers as she stepped forward this time, and they only flicked away long enough to input her order.

"Name," he asked, with the barest hint of a smile. Felicity's eyes narrowed the tiniest bit as she caught on to the game.

"Penelope," she answered brightly, and the corners of his lips twitched up ever so slightly. She stepped to the side without another word and waited for Curtis. 

They were on the sidewalk before he caught sight of the name on her cup. He rolled his eyes.

"Are you well?" 

She ignored him.

Day three: Time to pull that new dress out, she decided, for no particular reason. At all.

Curtis ordered first, but barely shifted to the side when she came forward for her turn, and Felicity had to dig a heel into the top of his foot to get him to move.

Blue Eyes was already tapping her order into the register from memory as she opened her mouth, prompting her to transform it into a smirk. He didn't lift his eyes from the screen, but there was a flirty smile on his face as he asked for her name.

"Cassiopeia," she enunciated, issuing the challenge. His smile grew wider, and at the last minute he looked up and met her gaze.

"That's a lot of letters," he offered mildly.

"Your hair's too long," she offered back, mirroring his tone and refusing to break eye contact. His face became unreadable for a moment, and then he smiled good-naturedly and turned his attention to the next customer. 

Curtis didn't even try to hide his astonishment. "What the--" he began, but she shushed him to silence and smiled brightly when her cup of coffee was offered at the far end of the counter.

The weekend came and went, and Monday morning Curtis was waiting outside the shop door as Felicity approached. 

"You ditched Paul and me for brunch," he accused, holding the door open like a gentleman anyway. Felicity couldn't quite meet his eye.

"I decided to grab a bagel," she explained lamely, and his expression turned to shocked understanding as he gasped.

"Here! You got a bagel here! You came all the way DOWNTOWN to 'grab a bagel'!" He made furious air quotes around the phrase.

Felicity shushed him fiercely, turning a shade pinker as she pushed him in front of her to the line. "I happen to love their bagels," she hissed. Not that it had done her much good, she thought wryly. Apparently he didn't work on Sundays.

Her hands were still on Curtis' arms in an attempt to keep him facing forward while she got her blush under control, so she felt it when his body suddenly stiffened. He let out a low whistle.

"Well, what do you know," he breathed, eyes focused front. Felicity instantly regretted making him go first, because now it was impossible to see around him. When she tried to step to the side he threw his arms behind him to block her.

"Oh no you don't," he warned wickedly. "You're going to have to wait your turn, missy."

Felicity was practically beside herself with curiosity by the time Curtis had paid and moved aside. He couldn't fight a grin as he stepped out of her way and she discovered that the shaggy-haired cashier and been transformed over the weekend into Prince Charming. His hair was now close cropped on the sides, just the right amount of sticky-up on the top. Enough to grab onto, she thought breathlessly for a second.

The short hair matured him by several years, but in a good way. It was obvious he was waiting for a reaction, because his smile was subtle, but his eyes were dancing. 

"Name," he asked softly, oh so softly, and she couldn't stop a grin from breaking out.

"Anastasia," she offered primly, almost bouncing on her toes in delight. 

"I don't think it is," he countered, although he typed it in all the same. 

She shook her head slightly, not breaking eye contact. "Maybe tomorrow?"

He gave her that flirty, closed-mouth smile, the one she caught herself thinking about throughout the day (and, okay, that one time at night). Felicity practically floated down the street next to Curtis.

She was up an hour early the next morning, seriously debating whether or not to call Curtis and beg him to swing by and help her pick out her outfit. In the end she decided against it, because she knew she'd never hear the end of it. 

Curtis teased her anyway about her "first date jitters" as he steered her into the shop. She needed his absence as much as she needed his moral support at that moment, and there was a bit of a tussle as the two friends vied to be the last one in line. Curtis won because he could basically pick her up and set her down in front of him, which made her squeak in protest. Felicity vowed revenge under her breath. 

Her outrage was short-lived as she peeked at the front of the line and realized that HE WASN'T THERE. She scanned the entire shop, to no avail. Felicity's heart sank; she surprised herself at the level of disappointment she suddenly felt.

She and Curtis had just finished sharing commiserating glances and her gaze was focused on her very cute (and now irrelevant) shoes when she felt Curtis' hand grip her right arm just as someone else's elbow nudged her left.

There he was, a cup of coffee in each hand  
and that smile on his face. The coffee shop uniform was gone, replaced by slacks and a blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. 

"Do you have a minute to sit," he asked, gesturing with the same elbow toward the corner of the room. Felicity glanced that direction and saw the only empty spot in the shop, a "Reserved" sign and a skinny vase holding a handful of daisies on top of the table. 

"I'LL. COVER. FOR. YOU. AT. WORK," Curtis pantomimed wildly and quite unnecessarily, as they were still standing inches from each other. Felicity nodded and patted his arm, eager to get away before any other ideas might occur to him.

Suddenly shy, she directed her attention to the daisies as he pulled her chair out, then concentrated on holding her coffee between both hands even though it rested safely on the table. When she finally looked up he was gazing at her with that smile again, eyes bright.

"Name," he asked quietly, and she had never heard a word laced with more anticipation. 

"Felicity," she replied, softly but clearly. 

Without breaking her gaze he held one hand out for her coffee while the other disappeared into his pants pocket. She pushed her cup toward him as he came up with a Sharpie and uncapped it. He worked quickly but carefully, and when he turned her cup around to face her she saw "FELICITY" written in neat capitals. She couldn't stop the smile; it was the happiest she'd ever been to see her own name.

Before capping the pen he went to work on his own cup, then stowed the pen and turned his coffee to face her. "OLIVER," it read. Her grin widened.

"You're not in your uniform," she began by way of conversation. "Did you come in on your day off just to meet me?"

He mulled the question over for a moment. "In a manner of speaking," he replied at last.  
"I'm not exactly an employee here," he continued. "My father asked me to..." he briefly searched for the right word, "...job shadow for the day to get my thoughts on the operation."

Felicity nodded in understanding, but something in his explanation gave her pause.

"Wait. 'For the day'?"

Oliver's expression turned a little bashful. "I came back on my own the second day on the off-chance I'd see you again."

It was Felicity's turn to blush. "And all the days after that?"

"Same answer."

They stared at each other for several seconds, stupid grins on both their faces. Felicity finally broke the spell by taking a sip of coffee and then clearing her throat.

"So your dad owns the coffee shop," she asked, gazing around her at all the hustle and bustle. Oliver glanced upward for a second, again contemplating his response.

"Well, the whole building, actually." He shrugged one shoulder. "And a good percentage of the block." 

"I like your hair," she offered, glancing upward with a smile.

"Thank you for the motivation," he replied easily. "My parents will also be eternally grateful," he added with a chuckle, and she laughed delightedly. 

"It looks very touchable--MANAGEABLE, I mean," she corrected quickly, mortified at the slip. His smile widened, and suddenly there was an added dimension of heat behind his eyes. 

"I'd better get going to work," Felicity finally managed. "Curtis can sing-and-dance with the best of them, but even he runs out of excuses eventually." 

Oliver sighed, but he never stopped smiling. "It was VERY nice to meet you. Felicity." 

Her breath caught as she heard him say her name for the first time, and something in the universe shifted. 

"Nice meeting you, Oliver." Felicity bit her bottom lip momentarily. "See you again tomorrow?"

His eyes danced. "Absolutely. I know this great little place to get coffee."


End file.
